


The Last in Line in Your Circus Parade

by ajremix



Category: DCU (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Trauma, F/F, Implied/Referenced Bullying, Implied/Referenced Murder, M/M, Pyromania, Slow Burn, undiagnosed mental illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 09:42:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajremix/pseuds/ajremix
Summary: Mick hadn't been with the circus for too long before they picked up a couple newbies.ColdWave Week Day 5: Doomworld





	The Last in Line in Your Circus Parade

**Author's Note:**

> Canon divergent from Mick’s backstory in Flash v2 #218. Technically the prompt calls for a ColdWave version of 'paradise' but I took it to mean an AU so... it's an AU. Title from the thematically incorrect Dear Madam Barnum by XTC.

Without having anything to distract himself with Mick had been dozing through most of the morning drive. It wasn’t until the caravan stopped for lunch that he found out the circus had picked up a couple new hands during that time. A boy and a girl, the first around Mick’s age, the latter a few years younger.

“You can share a bunk with Mick here for now,” Donovan, the ringmaster, told them. “He’s only been with us a few months himself so you three can learn the ropes together.”

The boy- Len -glowered at Mick with a black-eye and crooked nose while his sister Lisa pretended not to be hiding behind Len’s shoulder. “Okay,” Mick said, not really knowing what to do with them. The next youngest performer was a good eight years older than him. Mick supposed Donovan thought they’d be more comfortable with someone their age. “I guess I can introduce you around.”

On one hand, the introductions got Mick out of having to help set up for lunch which he didn’t really mind. On the other, it also meant not having Renetrice teach him to make a proper jambalaya which he kind of did. But he dutifully took them to meet everyone: the clowns, the trapeze artists, the contortionists, the animals and their handlers, the barkers and all the rest. He told them all the warnings he was given when he first joined and some he found out on his own: which people were just bluster and which ones weren’t, the best ways not to aggravate the animals, who they should never be alone with. They took their lunch with the animal handlers. They were one of his favorite groups so far. Mick usually helped them during setup and breakdown, got out of a lot of the menial work by mucking the stalls. It wasn’t all that different from what he did on the farm, it was kind of calming in a way, even if it stank.

“So what do we do?” Len asked. He glared down everyone whose eyes seemed to linger too long on his sister. Mick wondered if he realized some of them lingered on him, too. “What kind of work are we doing?”

“Could always use extra hands during setup and breakdown. You’re both pretty small, so you won’t be doing a lot of the heavy lifting.”

Len seemed to take insult to that, puffing out his skinny chest. “I’m just as strong as you!”

“Doubt it,” Mick said neutrally between spoonfuls of jambalaya. It was really good. He _really_ wanted to learn that recipe. “The strong man’s been training me in his act.” Julio was a great guy most of the time, but his age and increasing reliance on medication for his moods meant he’d be retiring sooner rather than later. “Someone’ll volunteer to train you. You’ll get paid though it ain’t much. And it’s all under the table on account of we’re kids but,” Mick shrugged, looking deep into his bowl. “Better than where we came.”

Len grunted. Mick took it as an agreement.

The caravan got back on the road and Mick took the two to the vehicle he rode in with the contortionists, a pair of women who were married in all but law. Rivka and Sinclair doted on Lisa immediately and Lisa preened at their attention. Len just sat back and watched them distrustingly. Mick sat up front with Aiden, who took care of the non-personnel side of things.

“What do you think of the new kids?” Aiden asked. He was the only one that could drive this particular van on account of the driver’s area being specially customized for his dwarfism.

“Dunno,” Mick said, slouching to get comfortable.

“Think they’ll stick around?”

He thought about Len’s defiant expression and Lisa sticking close, both listening intently to everything Mick told them, committing it all to memory. “Probably.”

Aiden grinned to himself. “Hope they turn out as good as you’ve been.”

~*~*~*~

It didn’t even take a week before Rivka and Sinclair announced they’d be training Lisa. They’d practically adopted her since day one and Lisa was enthralled by everything about them. Mick had seen Lisa sneaking in to watch the trapeze practice more than once, though. He didn’t doubt she’d be wanting to fly at some future point. Len seemed to have more trouble finding his niche. Originally, at Mick’s suggestion, he helped care for the animals until they realized, hilariously, that he was allergic to the tigers. Len proved to have quick, nimble hands and the resident magician had opted to teach him but both Donovan and Aiden rejected it. The man had been one of the people Mick had warned not to be alone with.

Len got bounced from act to act, no one really able to find something he was both good at and enjoyed. He spent most of his time with the clowns, learning juggling, tumbling, sleight of hand. It was the attitude that kept them from officially mentoring Len. The boy was surly, short tempered and refused to play the fool. The only one that managed to keep from tramping on Len’s bad side constantly was Lisa.

It wasn’t until their second month at the circus that Len’s talent became apparent. He’d gone up to Donovan during one of the breakdowns and said, “We’re missing the trunk with the ropes and stakes for the dressing tent.”

Donovan just looked down at him in confusion. “What?”

Len held out a clipboard to him. “An entire trunk of supplies is unaccounted for.”

“You actually use the checklist?” Donovan scratched at his head. “Huh. I think you’re the only one that does.”

Len _stared_ at him. “Isn’t the point of the checklist so you can _check_ them? How do you make sure you’re not leaving anything behind? Or not _missing an entire trunk of stuff_?”

“Check with Renetrice. Pretty sure the supply tent got put away early. They might have fit it with her stuff.”

After that Len worked with Aiden on things like logistics, organization and finances. Which Aiden was ecstatic for. He was especially looking forward to Len being experienced enough to walk around the circus during shows, making sure everything was being handled. Aiden hated doing it just because of the amount of people who thought he was an act simply because of his stature. After a particularly nasty outburst from Julio that left Len on the verge of fighting or bolting, Mick suggested to Aiden he let Len bunk with him, too. It meant that, given Lisa was already staying with her mentores, Mick would once again deal with the brunt of Julio’s mood swings but he was pretty used to it by now. On days he couldn’t handle it, he slipped away to the supply tent where Renetrice was always happy to have his help. And when that didn’t work, Mick could sneak off to stare at his lighter for a while.

~*~*~*~

“Renetrice told me to bring you this.” Len stood in the doorway to Mick’s bunk, staring blankly at the mound of blankets piled up against the wall. It moved, just enough for Mick to poke his head out. “Are… you alright?”

“Yeah,” Mick said miserably.

“You’re not sick or nothing?”

“No.” He pulled his blankets tighter. They were fairly thin, most of them crochet because it was better for Elias to keep himself busy with something other than drinking. Mick eyed the comforter in Len’s arms greedily. “Are you going to hand that over?”

“Yeah. Here.” Len unfolded it and plopped it on top of the mound. Mick sighed in contentment.

It took a few moment for Mick to realize Len had yet to leave. “What?” He asked, defensive and ready to retreat into his blankets like a turtle.

“I just don’t get is all.”

“What’s to get? I don’t like the cold.”

“It’s barely below 50 degrees out. Probably not gonna get much colder.”

“Well I don’t like it,” Mick snapped. He’d joined the circus into the first weeks of spring, when the nights still got chilly. His extreme aversion to the cold was one of the tamer quirks in the group and, again, it kept Elias busy making Mick extra blankets in a plethora of colors.

“Okay, okay.” Len shifted on his feet, looking like he was thinking. Mick braced himself, waiting to see if he’d be like the kids at school, taunting him maliciously about it any chance they could. Len ran a hand through his hair. “Do you want, like, soup or something? Hot tea? I mean, I could always go for some hot cocoa any time of the year so I could bring you a cup.” Mick stared. Len got defensive. “What?”

“I… wasn’t expecting that, I guess.”

“What, someone offering to get you stuff?”

“No. Kind of. I mean- most people just laugh and call me weird because of it.”

Len shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “I mean, I don’t like being hot, so I kind of understand I guess. But you helped me and Lisa fit in with the circus so it’s only fair I help you out too, right?”

Mick’s lips quirked in a half grin. “You’re weird.”

“I don’t have to get you that cocoa, you know.”

“I’ll take the cocoa, but you’re still weird.”

“Whatever.”

~*~*~*~

It wasn’t often that they crossed paths with other circuses while on the road but when they did it was usually amicable. Both groups would share a space, swapping tales and tips. This group was the first one they’d come across that had a kid, only about a year or two younger than Lisa. He was the youngest of the Flying Giuseppes, Giovanni. He didn’t like the name but hadn’t found another he liked better so they just called him Gio.

Lisa kept trying to talk him into teaching her trapeze stuff. “For fun,” she said.

Gio kept finding ways to distract her. He was all bright smiles, charm and clever hands. He showed off little gadgets he made himself and chattered on about any little thing. Eventually Mick asked, “Why don’t you wanna show Lisa some moves?” There was a trapeze and net already set up when the adults were showing off to each other earlier. But now that everyone had moved on to drinking, it was the perfect time for the kids to get up there if they wanted.

Gio shifted a bit, not looking at any of them when he said, “I’m too young to get up there yet.”

“Graysons’ got a younger one flying,” Len countered.

“My parents aren’t the Graysons.” The three stared at him until Gio finally admitted quietly, “I’m scared of heights.”

None of them knew how to respond to that so Mick just said, “Oh.” He looked up at the trapeze. It wasn’t up as high as it would be in a show, but fifteen feet was still pretty up there. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Disappointed, Lisa stopped pestering him. They continued to talk and hang out, Gio’s fear almost immediately forgotten. Just before they parted ways, Gio said he was working on some shoes that would help him fly. “They’d let me float,” he said, showing of sketches of pointed shoes. “Concentrated jets of air. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about falling.”

Len looked at them with serious consideration. Mick wondered if Len was hoping Gio would have a set complete before Lisa finagled her way into the trapeze act.

~*~*~*~

Six months in and Len still didn’t quite fit in. He was standoffish, distant and blunt, occasionally verging on cruel. The only ones he seemed to really get on with for any length of time, asides from Lisa, was Aiden and Donovan, who were used to dealing with all sorts of temperaments, Rivka and Sinclair, who Len tended to be on good behavior for for Lisa’s sake, and Mick, which Mick just chalked up to being in the same age group.

Of course Len had the odd tendency of hanging out with Mick most often while Mick was training with Julio. It made Mick feel kind of bad about their schedules not lining up exactly because he knew Len didn’t much like Julio and right after training, Mick was generally too tired to do anything but lay down and rest his aching muscles, chest heaving and sweat drying on his skin. But every time Mick apologized for it, Len would just brush is off and whenever Mick suggested he ask Julio to change their schedule, Len insisted that he didn’t mind.

“We don’t have to do things,” Len would tell him. “Sometimes it’s nice just to have company.”

Mick stretched out, long and luxurious, stripped to the waist so the sun could beat warm on his skin. It may have been just his imagination, but Mick swore he saw Len turn his head away just as Mick opened his eyes again. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. You’re not so bad yourself.”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that caused Len to flush. It was an idea that made Mick’s stomach flutter.

At one point, during those quiet moments when they just sat together companionably, Mick said, “You know, I think you’re my best friend.”

Len looked at him as if this was a surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I guess.” Mick laughed to himself, running a hand through his hair, pulling back the strands that stuck to his still-damp skin. “Never really had friends,” he admitted. “I was always the weird kid who wore jackets during the summer. The scary kid that likes playing with fire. The last guy I considered a friend trapped me in a meat locker. Don’t know if it was for a gag or to trying to get the others kids to like him more.”

It was kind of nice the way Len got indignant and angry on his behalf. “He did _what_?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Mick waved off Len’s concern. His eyelids slid shut as the memory of a roaring fire and creaking timber came over him. He couldn’t remember if they screamed or not any more. “It’s over.”

“Not if I get my hands on this guy…”

“You won’t.” Nobody would be doing anything to Brad Riker again. Or his family. Sometimes Mick felt guilty that he didn’t feel worse about it. But it, like the memory of his own family, didn’t feel like something he did but something he watched happen. Where nothing existed but the fire. There was something wrong with him, Mick knew that much, but if anyone knew, they’d make him leave the circus. The circus was the only place he felt like he belonged, the only place that didn’t judge the way he bundled himself up or lost himself in a fire.

“Yeah well, I ain’t gonna pull something like that.”

He was so serious about it that Mick couldn’t help poking fun at him. “Considering there’s no meat lockers around…”

Len grabbed a handful of grass and tossed it at Mick, expression half sneer, half amused. “You know what I mean, ass.”

~*~*~*~

The day after their last show was generally a lazy one, where after packing up the non-essentials, everyone was allowed to just relax. Mick had found Lisa eating ice cream and watching some daytime talk show with a couple of the clowns on their crappy, handheld portable television. It was kind of a hilarious scene in all honesty, the group of them clustered around to stare intently at a tiny screen, but Mick interrupted it to ask where her brother was.

“He wanted to talk to Rivka,” she said, eyes not moving away as some woman went on about how she worked herself to the bone for her children and their ungrateful turn on her. “Said it was private.”

Mick dithered, wondering if he should go find him or not. It wasn’t for anything important, just to see if Len wanted to head into town with some of the others. It had become a bit of a tradition over the last year or so. Sometimes Lisa came, sometimes she didn’t, but usually it was the two of them seeing what was interesting.

Well, he figured, no harm in seeing if they were done talking or not. He went over to Rivka’s tent and could hear quiet words coming from inside. As low as the voices were, Mick only had to stand a few feet away to understand what they were saying through the material.

“Honestly, it’s more natural than all these expectations society keeps throwing at us. The world keeps telling you that there’s certain ways you have to look and act and certain people you have to love, all based on what’s between your legs.” Oh, this. Mick a similar talk with her before. “If it weren’t for society constantly drilling those things into our heads since we were born, if we had the freedom to express and explore who we truly are, the world would be a much queerer place.”

“So… there’s nothing wrong with me?” Mick’s breath caught- that was Len’s voice.

“Honey, if you honestly thought there was something wrong with you because you might be attracted to other men, you wouldn’t be talking to me.” There was a soft, warm smile in Rivka’s voice. “What you wanted was someone confirming that this was alright. And it is absolutely alright.”

“But… I was told…” Mick could practically see the way Len’s mouth twisted as he tried to find the words he needed. “My dad told me that people like- guys that liked guys… that they’re wrong and sick.”

“And probably called them all sorts of things.” Rivka sighed. “Lenny, do you think there’s something wrong with me or Sinclair?”

“Well… no.”

“Of course not. Otherwise you wouldn’t have let us near your sister.”

“But that’s different.”

“And why is it different? Because we’re women? Or because it’s not you?”

Len stayed silent.

“That’s the great thing about the circus. We’re all freaks one way or another, either because of the things we can do or because we don’t have a place in ‘proper society’. So it’s the perfect place for you to figure yourself out. No judgments here.” Rivka paused. “Well, no judgments so long as no one gets hurt.”

“So it’s really okay that I…”

“Like cock?” She asked teasingly. “I don’t get the appeal myself but you wouldn’t be the only one in the circus that does, man or woman. Nor would you be the only person here who likes both.” There was a brief pause and a shuffling sound. “Take your time. You don’t have to figure out what you like right now. Hell, you can change your mind in ten years. The important thing is that you don’t feel ashamed of yourself and don’t feel like you have to hide who you are from the people who care about you. We want you to be happy. We want you to find someone that makes you happy.”

Len laughed, a little breathless, a little watery. “That… might be the first time anyone other than Lisa said that to me.”

“I’m sure it won’t be the last time you hear it, either.”

There was a slight sniffle and some more shuffling and Mick belatedly remembered that he was eavesdropping right as Len left the tent. He froze at the sight of Mick, eyes huge. “Uh…”

Rivka stuck her head out, gave Mick a brief _look_ before telling Len, “Don’t worry about him. I gave him the same talk a little while before you joined.”

That information seemed to stun Len. “You… you, uh…”

“Like guys?” Mick asked with a wry half-grin and a shrug. “Sometimes. More than I like girls, honestly.”

Len looked away, color starting to come up in his cheeks. “Oh. Uh.”

Rivka’s eyes darted between the two. “Well!” She said brightly, clapping Len’s shoulder and giving him a push so he was entirely out of her tent. “Really, Mick probably has a better idea of what you’re going through- being the right age group and having grown up with similar expectations of masculinity -you can talk to him about any questions you might have. It’ll probably be enlightening.” She gave Mick a grin and a wink before ducking back in her tent and cinching the entrance tight.

He had no idea what that was about. Mick didn’t think he’d ever understand women. Probably why they had minimal appeal to him.

The two of them stood awkwardly for a moment before Mick cleared his throat. “So, uh, you have an eye on someone?” Len’s shoulders stiffened and his flush deepened. “It’s okay if you do. I had a crush on Jared when I first got here.” He was one of the daredevils, broad shouldered and barrel chested with a wild smile and tight leather motorcycle gear. It was Jared’s excessive wildness that had eventually turned Mick off, uncontrollable to the point of suicidal some days. Honestly, Mick kept expecting Donovan to let him go rather than risk Jared deciding to crash and burn in the middle of a show. “No one’s going to judge you for it. I mean, there isn’t all that many options with the circus,” Mick continued. “Sometimes, when the need gets bad enough, all you have available are the people around you. And you don’t always get to choose the gender when that happens.”

Len licked his lips, his voice sounded a little thicker as he asked, “Have you… uh.” He trailed off, face continually getting redder.

Mick took pity on him. “My hand’s still working out for me.” He laughed to himself. He looked over to Len who seemed to have swallowed his tongue. “Are you… having trouble?” Len flushed bright, all the way to the tips of his ears. “Because I could help. If you can’t find anyone else, I mean.”

Abruptly Len strode forward jerkily. “I’ll think about it,” he mumbled out quickly before all but running off.

Mick’s brow furrowed, looking after him, trying to figure out how and when the conversation got twisted around. Eventually he chalked it up to Len being shy about that sort of thing. He turned and saw Rivka standing there, giving Mick a long, measured look. “Don’t tease the poor boy, Mickey.”

“I wasn’t!”

She hummed, unconvinced, and headed back into the tent.

~*~*~*~

It had been awkward for a while following Len’s… revelation. He seemed to find an excuse to not be around Mick for extended periods of time and when Mick asked Lisa about it, she just shrugged and said he’s being weird and that that was nothing unusual.

Around that time, however, the circus underwent a change of personnel with Julio finally retiring. Mick spent more time than ever training, getting bigger, stronger and not having much time to worry about anything else, even if it did sting a little each time he’d finish working out and look up to find Len wasn’t waiting for him.

Until, one day, he was.

“Hey,” Len said, holding out a towel for Mick to take. “Sorry I’ve been absent. Just had to straighten my head out a bit.”

“I understand. I’ve been there, myself.”

“Yeah.” Len shuffled his feet a bit, seeming to have trouble lifting his eyes about Mick’s collarbone. “We still friends?”

Mick hid a snort and grin into the towel. “Yeah, we’re still friends.”

“Cool,” Len said. He finally looked Mick in the eye and asked, “Did you know Tae Min knows how to breathe fire?”

Mick hadn’t. Tae Min was one of the new additions to the circus, brought on specifically to teach the other daredevil bikers to do the globe of death. As well as being an excuse for Donovan to finally get rid of Jared. Mick hadn’t talked to him much on account of Tae Min’s stunted English and Mick struggling with his thick accent.

“He’s cool with showing you how it’s done. Maybe you can incorporate that into your act.”

Mick perked up at the idea. As grateful as he was for having a job, doing straight feats of strength got repetitive. After a couple months working with Tae Min on their free time, with Len’s input on how to integrate the two acts, Mick performed it to Donovan and Aiden. After another month of refinement under their guidance, Mick debuted the act in a show. Then performed it in every show after.

~*~*~*~

“I’m telling you, it’s blowing out cold air!”

“Mick,” Aiden said, trying to bite down on his temper. Mick’s repeated complaints on top of bad traffic wasn’t making it easy. “The heater is _on_ , okay? It’s not cold air!”

“I think it really is.” Lisa leaned forward with a frown. She pulled her sleeve back and held it close to the vent. Goosebumps rose up in fairly short order. “I think the heater’s broken.”

“ _Broken_?” Mick all but squeaked.

“We can’t stop the entire caravan just to futz with the heater,” Aiden said preemptively. He looked into the rearview mirror, catching Mick’s eyes. “We’ll be stopping for the night in a few hours. I’ll have Nihal look at it tonight.”

“It’s okay, Mickey.” Rivka draped herself over Mick’s back, flopping her entire weight on him. Lisa laughed and did the same. “We’ll keep you warm until then.”

“That doesn’t mean suffocate me!”

“Why, Mickey!” Sinclair cried from Rivka’s other side, wrapping her arms around her partner. “One would think you thought girls had cooties, acting like that!”

“I like being warm _and_ breathing! They’re not mutually exclusive!”

A jacket was suddenly thrust under Mick’s nose. He blinked at it, then followed the arm up to the front where Len sat, resolutely turned forward.

Len shook his jacket slightly. “Here.”

“Uh-”

“Cold doesn’t bother me so, take it. It’s not much but at least it’s something.”

“Um. Thanks.” The women sat up, letting Mick put the jacket on, zipping it up all the way to his nose. Next to him Rivka was silently screaming with glee. Mick pretended not to notice, just like he pretended that he wasn’t blushing.

~*~*~*~

“Gio!”

“Lisey!”

“How dare you get taller than me, you little brat!” She exclaimed even while she hugged Gio tightly.

“Not my fault- I’ve seen miniature horses taller than you!” Gio had to have grown at least a foot since they last saw him but he was still a gangly beanpole, all long and lean muscles. Lightweight so he could fly despite his distaste for heights. Mick couldn’t help sizing him up- though he and Len had been back on an even keel for some time, Mick couldn’t help noticing that Len had a type when it came to people he was intimate with. Male or female- or those that didn’t easily fall into a category -they all had fine features. With women, Len seemed to have more leniency but for men, they were always delicate beauties with a willowy grace.

Len was attracted to guys like Gio rather than Mick. Mick swallowed down a knot that tried to grow in his throat in response to that thought.

“You think you can still lift me?” Gio asked, breaking into Mick’s train of thought.

“Considering you’re still a stick, no problem.” Mick held out his hands and Gio grabbed them, palm to palm, fingers interlacing. He lifted himself up until he was upside down, legs held straight up in the air. Carefully, Mick lifted Gio above his head. Then Gio, shifted his weight slightly to one side, the grip of one hand loosening and when Mick let it go, Gio held it off to the side, legs parting into a straddle split.

“Hey,” Gio said conversationally, as if he weren’t being held up above Mick’s head with one hand, “you think I could join you guys? We could be an adagio acrobalance act.” Gio brought his legs back together and Mick lowered him down so when Gio dropped back to his feet, he didn’t have far to land.

“You still wouldn’t be on the ground,” Mick teased.

“Please. Six feet is nothing.” Gio turned to the other two. “What do you guys think?”

“Doubt Donovan would go for it,” Len said. “If you suggest the act to him, he’d just pair Mick up with one of our three trained contortionists before he’ll agree to hire you.”

For a moment, Gio just looked at Len closely, studying him very intently. Mick couldn’t help the stirring of some emotion that began bristling up his spine. He couldn’t help the thought that Len might be Gio's type as well.

Gio just smiled brightly and slapped Mick’s shoulders. “True enough. Wouldn’t want to shake up a good thing anyway, you know?”

Mick had no idea what he meant but laughed along anyway.

~*~*~*~

Mick’s weird fascination with Len would come and go- well, not so much go as it did fade into the background where he wasn’t consciously aware of it. But Mick always seemed to know when someone had caught Len’s attention, when his eyes would linger a little too long on someone and that feeling would come back. He tried not to think about it, tried not to let it bother him but… well, he supposed he’d just gotten so used to having so much of Len’s attention, of only having to share it with Lisa that having someone else steal some bothered him.

So when Janice joined, it was something of a relief. She’d taken over the elephant act from Paul after he’d gotten into some major trouble with the law. Mick had taken a liking to her at once and began flirting with her once she became settled with the rest of the circus. 

Oddly, though, Len also began flirting with her though he only seemed to do so when he was aware Mick was nearby. There were many moments when Mick would watch them from a distance and Len didn’t seem to care that Janice existed. Eventually he figured that Len was going through what Mick had, feeling like he was losing Mick’s attention to Janice. Well, if Mick had learned to live with sharing Len, he could do the same.

Janice didn’t know what to make of Len’s strange push-and-pull routine and it made her hesitate to take up Mick’s offers. But she did, eventually. She, like Mick, had a healthy appetite and when Mick offered to make her his grandmother’s chili, she jumped at the chance. Mick wasn’t the type to expect a simple first dinner to go anywhere, was simply happy that he finally got a date. Len sulked when Mick told him but Mick refused to let Len’s bad attitude ruin his night.

After he worked out for the day and washed up, Mick began cooking, cutting up vegetables and measuring out spices. He put a pot on the stove to cook the meat. He turned on the burner and something in his brain went ‘click’.

It was a sensation he hadn’t felt in years. Not since he burned down Brad Riker’s house, him and his family still in it. That distant, floaty feeling like Mick had stepped outside his body, watching it go about without his input. He watched it move the pot off the burner, turning the flame up higher, staring at it, mesmerized. It wasn’t big enough. Even if he wasn’t in his body, Mick could still feel the itch and knew the fire wasn’t big enough. He watched his body grab the nearest flammable object, an oven mitt, and dropped it on the stove. It caught. It spread, over to the wooden utensils, slowly growing. A thought wriggled its way into Mick’s brain: a camera. He should grab a camera, take photos so he could admire the flames later. Tina had a good one. By the time he’d get back, the fire would be so much bigger, so much more beautiful.

Mick didn’t make it to the door before someone came rushing in, armed with a fire extinguisher, putting the fire out in a harsh spray of foam. It snapped Mick back into his body and he doubled over, body racked with coughs as he realized his lungs were filled with smoke. The skin of his face and arms felt burned from the heat of the fire and strong hands grabbed him, pulling him out of the kitchen and into the cool air outside.

“Are you okay? Mick?” Those hands cupped his face, guiding him around until he was looking at Len. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Mick couldn’t answer. Instead, his eyes went over Len’s shoulder, back into the kitchen. The fire was gone, smothered under the foam and for a moment Mick felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Another arm wrapped around Mick, heaving him to his feet. “Let’s get him to my trailer.” Donovan. Mick’s breathes started to come in great heaves, hyperventilating at the thought of what he almost did. At the fact that they’d find out how messed up he truly was and that they’d kick him to the curb rather than risk letting him travel with them.

“Mick? Can you tell us what happened?”

He blinked, wondering just when he’d been sat down on a bed, head between his knees. A hand was rubbing circles over his back. He looked up, only Len and Donovan were with him. “I-” tears came to his eyes and Mick’s words caught in his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want this to happen.” That was all he managed to get out before succumbing to his tears, hiding his face in his hands.

He heard, on the edge of awareness, Len and Donovan talking to each other but the words couldn’t make it through the disjointed fog clouding Mick’s brain. Eventually he felt someone gently guiding him to lay back in the bed and a tugging at his feet as his boots were pulled off. “I didn’t mean to,” Mick said through his tears. “I didn’t mean it. I wanted to but I didn’t want to.”

“What are you talking about?” Len asked. Donovan must have left because Mick couldn’t see him anywhere in the small trailer.

“It happens sometimes,” he sobbed, curling into a miserable ball. “I can’t help it. I thought it was over but it wasn’t. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Mick… try to get some rest, okay? You’re not making any sense.”

“There’s something broken in my head. It’s like I’m not in control of my body. I wanted… I wanted to see the fire. I wanted to see it huge and out of control. That’s when it’s the most beautiful, you know? I didn’t _want_ to, but I had to.” Mick let out a wretched noise. “Donovan’s gonna send me away. I don’t wanna go away, Lenny. I _love_ the circus.”

“I know you do.” Len climbed into the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around Mick. “We’ll talk about it when you’re not such a mess, okay? But I promise, if Donovan sends you away, I’m coming with you. You’re not going to be alone.” Mick sobbed into his chest until a restless sleep came over him.

~*~*~*~

In the end, after much back and forth between Donovan, Aiden, Renetrice and Len, Mick wasn’t fired. He was no longer allowed to do any cooking without Renetrice around and he was no longer allowed to do his fire act for the foreseeable future. The others were split between sympathy and distrust. The ones that had known him longer grew protective of Mick. Rivka, Sinclair and Lisa made it a point to be around him as often as possible, glaring down anyone that tried to give him a hard time. Tae Min kept giving him guilty looks, as if he thought teaching Mick how to breathe fire caused this problem. Janice tried to act like she wasn’t uncomfortable being around Mick now.

Len ended up moving in with Mick. The tent was small but it had been given to Julio when his unpredictable mood swings had gotten bad enough no one wanted to room with him. Mick had it all to himself when Julio left. Back then, when Mick hadn’t reached his full adult size, it had been just big enough for two. Now, with two fully grown men, it was cramped and the two had to sleep so close they might as well have been sharing a bed. One night, with his head still numb and emotions still raw, Mick told Len everything. About his family, about Brad Riker, about how he _needed_ to light those fires whether he wanted to or not.

“I was going to take pictures,” Mick said in the dark. “That’s where I was going when you came in.” He said, quieter, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s not going to happen again,” Len said firmly.

“It will. I thought it was done but it still happened. It’ll happen again.”

“Then I’ll be there to stop it from getting out of hand.”

Mick curled his shoulders in on himself, putting his hand out into the space between them. “I don’t want to burn you, Len.”

Len grabbed his hand and held it tightly. “You won’t.”

~*~*~*~

Eventually, when things settled down for about a year, Donovan began talking about retiring. “Not any time soon,” he said. “It won’t be for another five years or so, but it’s definitely something I need to start working towards to make things as seamless as possible.”

The reason for that was two-fold: first, Aiden was also planning to retire around the same time and second, they were going to give the circus to Len.

When he’d first been told, Len went back to his tent and just sat there in the dark by himself for some time, trying to absorb the news and what it would mean for him. Eventually Mick found him there. He sat next to Len, holding his hand to ground him and listened as Len stumbled over his thoughts.

When he said all he had to say, Mick just said, “I’m not surprised, really. You’re going to be amazing.”

Len turned to him, jaw working for a moment before saying thickly, “You’re going to be here to help me, right?”

Honestly Mick didn’t think Len needed him. All the performers respected and listened to Len already and Mick still considered himself a liability. But, he figured, there was still plenty of time before Len realized he’d be better off depending on someone other than a pyromaniac timebomb so there wouldn’t be any harm in Mick saying, “Of course. Anything you need.”

Len dropped his cheek to Mick’s shoulder and let out a deep, deep breath.

Even if it would still be years before Len was officially in charge his workload jumped. He spent most of his time with his nose deep in paperwork, started following Donovan around and sat in on every meeting Donovan, Aiden and even Renetrice had.

Just about every night Len came back mentally exhausted, shoulders aching from being hunched over paperwork or reading up on various books and files. Mick took to giving him massages that left Len falling into a deep, restful sleep before he was done. Privately Mick loved those moments with Len laid out trustingly beneath him, slowly unraveling under Mick’s hands, words slurring as he tried to talk before eventually tapering off to soft snores.

Mick had always liked the circus. After the ridicule and malicious teasing he endured in school, it was like a revelation to find some place where no one cared about his quirks, where he was taken in and accepted just as he was. He didn’t doubt that the others cared about him, he didn’t doubt that they wanted him there but it only felt like he was merely existing. Just sharing a space with others who at least acknowledged him.

This, however. Mick felt needed. He felt necessary. He felt like he _mattered_ to someone, even if that was just making it easier for Len to be able to sleep at night. “Is this sad?” Mick asked quietly, only half serious. His thumb traced over Len’s jaw, over three days worth of stubble. “That I kind of like being able to take care of you?”

Len made a soft noise before turning further into his pillow. He mumbled something unintelligible and settled back into sleep. Mick pulled his hand back, chuckling quietly to himself. “I guess it’s only fair seeing as how you’ve been looking out for me.”

His eyes lingered over Len for a few minutes longer before Mick went to his own cot, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

~*~*~*~

By the time Mick’s birthday rolled around, he was officially part of a new act: acrobalance with Sinclair and Rivka. He considered writing an apology to Gio for stealing his idea but Gio apparently left his troupe sometimes in the last year since they crossed paths. The switch worked out for everyone, though, Lisa finally getting to work the trapeze as she’d always wanted with a grace and natural ability that was obvious from the start. Donovan had taken to affectionately calling her their ‘Golden Glider’.

Mick had gotten so focused on the new act that he’d completely forgotten about his birthday until he went to the food tent with Lisa after helping her put away the cables and net from her trapeze practice and the troupe- the ones he still considered close, anyway -greeted him with a “Surprise!” and some party poppers.

There wasn’t much by way of presents given all of them tended to be stingy with money due to the unreliableness of their profits but honestly Mick didn’t mind. He was glad for their company, getting hugs and a few kisses throughout the night. Renetrice made his favorite, jambalaya, and for desert there was a raspberry and chocolate bombe Alaska. They even let him stare at the meringue as it burned for a few moments before putting it out.

They talked, laughed and danced all the way through to the early morning and as the crowd thinned out, wishing him a good night and final birthday wishes, Mick spotted Len in the back, cleaning up the dishes. Mick got up to help him.

“I got it,” Len said, when he noticed what Mick was doing.

“It’ll get done faster with two.”

“The birthday boy shouldn’t be doing clean up.”

Mick laughed. “It stopped being my birthday almost,” he paused to squint at the clock back in the kitchen area, “three hours ago? Damn, time flies.”

Len looked over at the clock. Apparently he’d lost track as well. “Huh. Well, guess I can’t stop you, then.”

Between the two of them, clean up didn’t take long. Most of it was disposable and everyone was in the habit of cleaning up after themselves anyway. So all it really took was a quick sweep and wiping down a few spills. At least it wouldn’t have taken long if Mick didn’t keep finding excuses to linger. Sure they stayed in the same tent together but… Mick just didn’t want the night- and this little slice of time with just the two of them -to end.

But, eventually, the last of the trash got swept in the bag and the bag got tied up and placed in the city provided dumpster for them to use. Together they walked back to their tent, slowly, listening to the shuffling of animals, to the sound of the city beyond that, enjoying the night.

As they stepped inside, Mick said, “Thank you.”

Len just shrugged. “Sure.”

“No,” he grabbed Len’s shoulder, keeping him from turning away. “I mean it. Lisa told me you were the one who organized this.”

He scowled, more embarrassed than angry. “She wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

“Yeah, well. Since when does Lisa do what she’s told?”

Len ran a hand through his hair, looking self-conscious. “It’s not a big deal. This- you’ve had a rough year. I just… wanted to do something nice for you.” He licked his lips, looking at Mick like he was trying to gather up the courage for something. “I… I really like you, Mick. I want you to be happy. As a friend and… maybe…”

They lapsed into a long silence until Len broke their gaze, glancing away. Mick started, stammering a bit. “I… sorry, it’s just- I didn’t think you liked guys like me.”

Len looked momentarily thrown. “What?”

“Well, all the guys you were with before. They were always… slim and pretty and not… like this.” He held his arms out in silent indication.

Len snorted. “You know why I went for guys like that? Because if I went for guys like you, I’d be disappointed that they weren’t _you_.”

“Oh.” Mick laughed a little self-consciously. “How long have you…”

Just as self-consciously, Len shrugged and cut his eyes away for a moment. “About the time I figured out I liked guys.”

“Oh.” There really wasn’t anything Mick could say to that. He saw Len’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, watching Mick intently, expectantly. Mick cupped his hands on either side of Len’s jaw in silent question. Len’s eyes slid closed and his lips parted slightly and there was nothing Mick could do to keep himself from leaning in and kissing him. Their mouths moved together, soft and slow, exploring cautiously. Len’s arm came around Mick’s back, clutching at his shirt as Mick moaned.

When they parted, Mick’s brow had the tiniest furrow in it. “What?” Len asked, a hair defensive.

“Since when were you taller than me?”

Len laughed, loud and bright and dragged Mick back in for another kiss.

~*~*~*~

Daily training was cut early in the day, Donovan somber as everyone gathered together. He told them about an accident that happened to another circus the night prior. About how all the famous Flying Graysons, save the youngest, fell to their deaths, rumored by foul play. Between that, the rampant crime, the influx of violent creeps in costumes that didn’t look too different than how the performers dressed, Donovan made the decision to never go through Gotham again.

“Everyone that goes in the air,” he told them, “will have wires and nets. _Everyone_.”

No one had a problem with that.

~*~*~*~

With the way Len was working his ass off, it surprised no one that he was ready to take over the circus early. Of course Donovan and Aiden weren’t ready to leave, needing to pad out their retirement fund some more, but they didn’t have any issues with leaving their positions early and working for the circus in other aspects.

The night after Len was officially signed as the owner, Mick couldn’t help chuckling against Len’s chest, arm thrown over his waist and legs tangled together under the sheet.

“What?” Len asked, half asleep, fingers idly massaging Mick’s scalp. He’d taken to shaving it recently and Len seemed to like petting him. Honestly Mick didn’t mind it much himself.

“Just thinking,” he said, propping himself up on an arm so he had a good look at Len’s face. “So does this mean I’m sleeping my way to the top now?”

Len’s eyes snapped open and when he saw Mick’s big, shit eating grin, he grabbed the pillow under his head and smacked Mick with it.

In the morning, Mick got up early to help feed the animals and clean out their stalls. Then he did some strength training and by the time he went to have breakfast, nearly everyone was already up and about. He didn’t see Len around so Mick took his meal with the clowns, chatting with them for a while before grabbing a couple mugs of coffee and heading over to Len’s office.

Just as he suspected, Len was already getting started on the paperwork and Mick took a seat opposite him at the desk- a table that folded out from the wall. Len barely gave him notice except to drop the morning paper in front of Mick. He looked over it in the midst of sipping his coffee, at the bright smile gracing the front page. He looked back up at Len, eyebrows raised.

“Tell me that’s not who I think it is,” Len said. He looked torn between annoyed and amused.

Putting his cup down, Mick grabbed the paper to better study the photo. He skimmed the article, a few choice words sticking out at him. “Is that… Gio?”

“The _Trickster_ ,” Len said, drawing the name out as he grabbed the mug pushed his way, checking to make sure a couple ice cubes floated in there to cool it down. “Robbed a plane in mid-air.”

Mick barked out a laugh. “That _would_ be something Gio would do.”

“But really, who else could it be?” Len got up to lean over the back of Mick's chair. Mick leaned back against him. “Gio leaves the circus, all of the sudden a guy obviously trained in acrobatics shows up wearing Giuseppe stripes and floating shoes like he’d been talking about.”

Mick shifted so he could lift and arm, running his fingers through Len’s hair. “What do you think about it?”

“Ridiculous. And hilarious.”

“Definitely sounds like Gio.” Mick grinned mischievously. “You want to see if we can’t say hi next time we’re in Central?”

Len snorted into his coffee. “We’ll see.”

~*~*~*~

Mick reached over and shook Len’s shoulder as he dozed in the passenger seat. “Whu?”

“You see that?”

Len stretched and yawned and squinted blearily out the windshield. “That hell? Is that…” he leaned forward, hands against the dashboard. “Is that guy leading a train of rats?”

Up ahead, trudging along the side of the road, was a lone figure with long, tangled auburn hair, dirty clothing that looked like they had once been expensive and a woefully small bag slung over a shoulder. They seemed to be holding something up to their face and behind them were dozens of rats, following behind like an enthralled and well organized moving carpet.

“Should we?”

“Hell yes!” Len said. Mick chuckled, putting on the hazards so the rest of the caravan knew they were coming to a stop and very carefully he drove up next to the person.

Len rolled down the window and leaned out. The person- male, by Mick’s guess -was playing a flute. “Hey.” The music stopped. “You looking for a job?” He slapped the door where the circus’s name was faded but colorfully emblazoned.

The young man- a teen really, just a handful of years older than Mick or Len had been when they joined -looked at him blankly. Len tilted his head to the side. “That a hearing aid?” He asked his original question again in sign language.

The kid’s eyes went wide. “You can sign?”

“One of the clowns was born deaf,” Len said, signing as he spoke. “Got a couple others hard of hearing, signing’s easier for ‘em.”

“I, uh, I can actually read lips pretty well,” the kid said, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “I was just surprised. My parents refused to learn so…”

“Parents can be dicks,” Len told him sagely, “lotta us here know that well. So how do you do the trick with the rats?”

He looked at the rats, not looking surprised that so many were sitting there and staring at him. By this time anyone that could lean out a window to look at them were doing so. He looked back at Len, guiltily fingering his flute. “I dunno. They just… like listening to me play. I can get ‘em to do tricks.”

“Nice. You want a job?”

His eyes darted around. “Can you… do that? Just offer me one out of the blue like that?”

“I’m the owner so, yeah. ‘Sides, we’re always open for new acts.” Len held out his hand for a handshake. “At least let us give you a ride to the next town, then you can decide if you want to stay or not. What do ya say?”

He looked down at his rats. A couple of them squeaked, as if offering advice. When the kid looked up again, he looked ashamed. “I… I’m… gay.”

For a moment no one said anything. “...okay,” Len said eventually. “Not something you gotta disclose to us but thanks for the info.”

His ears turned red. “S-Sorry. It’s just… my parents-”

“Are dicks, I got it.” Len swung the door open. “Well that don’t bother us, kid, so hop on in.”

“Yeah,” Mick chipped in. “If no one cares that I’ve been sleeping with the boss for the last two years,” he hooked his chin casually over Len’s shoulder, “no one’s going to make a big deal out of you.” Len snorted but didn't look anything but comfortable in Mick's hold.

The kid looked up at them like he was faced with a revelation. The two just sat patiently, waiting for him to snap out of it on his own. “Um!” His hands were knuckle white around his flute. “I’m Hartley!”

Even from their brief conversation, Mick wasn’t surprised at the lack of family name. “I’m Mick, this is Len. He’s not nearly as surely as he likes to act.”

“Don’t undermine my grumpiness, Mick,” Len said dryly.

The hint of a wide, unrestrained smile ghosted over Hartley’s face. “Can… can my rats come, too?”

“Sure. It’ll save us having to scrounge some up in the next town,” Len said. He got onto his knees to lean back and push open the back door. It was pretty stuff with supplies but there was enough room for the rats to curl up in the cracks. “Just keep ‘em away from the tigers and the food and we’re good.”

Mick snorted. He waited from Hartley to herd his pets in and get himself buckled into the front before putting the van back into gear and on the road.


End file.
